


you got my heart (i don't want it back)

by chocolatemoon



Category: Soy Luna (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-05 21:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15179879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatemoon/pseuds/chocolatemoon
Summary: When did Luna's feelings for Matteo get socomplicated?





	you got my heart (i don't want it back)

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my tumblr.
> 
> Title is taken from "Don't Want It Back" by Sabrina Carpenter.

It starts with the smallest of gestures; lingering looks across the room, a reassuring hand on the small of her back when the two of them are in a crowd, smiles and nods that are reserved just for her, soft spoken words of encouragement and pride that no one else but she can hear.

She doesn’t think much of it at first – why would she? They’re just friends, and the things he does are what friends do. And this feeling she gets in his presence, it’s also completely platonic.

_Right?_

Once she starts to actually contemplate it, she has to admit that the feeling is different from any other she’s ever felt before. She can’t recall how or when, but it’s like a switch has been turned on, like she’s suddenly stepping out from a shadow into blinding sunlight. A lighted path is leading her into Matteo’s direction, and if she closes her eyes she can imagine him with his arms open wide, waiting for her.

She smiles, still not exactly sure why, but it’s nice, nevertheless.

/

He’s appearing in her dreams more often than before – something she never thought would even be possible. They are always the same: it’s just the two of them, sitting close while the rest of the world is a blur, talking with their hands intertwined. (Although she can’t recall anything from the conversation afterwards when she’s awake.)

And they always end the same; with him telling her the only words she seems to remember, a serious expression on his face, “Luna, there’s something I want you to know.”

Naturally, she wakes up before she can hear the rest.

/

The worst part is that he affects her even in his absence. She sees him everywhere she goes, in everything she sees. Every song reminds her of his smooth voice, every warm ray of sunshine on her skin is achingly similar to the sensation of his eyes on her.

People around her have also started to notice that something is different. Her mother is worried she doesn’t get enough sleep since she always looks so tired, Nina keeps giving her questioning looks every time she’s smiling to herself in class, and Simón wants to know why she can’t concentrate on, well, anything.

“Are you okay?” he asks her one day when they meet after school.

“I ... I’m not sure,” she replies, shrugging but grinning wide at the same time. It’s not a lie, not really, she doesn’t know why she’s feeling like this, but since she’s enjoying it so far she doesn’t want to overthink it. Overthinking tends to ruin good things.

Simón raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask anything else.

/

Almost two weeks go by like this. Thirteen days of losing sleep, of not staying awake in class, of letting her heart magnify every single one of his movements towards her. Thirteen days of looking at Matteo and him looking back, neither of them saying anything, the air between them buzzing with this _something_ that she can’t put into words.

/

Luna glares at the bookshelf. For several minutes she’s tried to get a book from the library that Nina told her they needed for their literature assignment. Unfortunately, it’s placed too high up for her to reach. No matter how hard she stretches out her legs, standing on the very tip of her toes, she can’t get a hold of the book, her fingers barely brushing the spine. Perhaps she should get a chair or something, or ask Nina for help.

 _No, that won’t be necessary_ , she tells herself. _I know I can do this on my own._

And so she tries for what could possibly be the twentieth time and fails once again.

“Looks like you need help,” a voice to her right suggests, and Luna turns to find that it’s Matteo – of course it is – standing there with a smug look on his face; an expression she’s grown accustomed to seeing.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, unable to stop herself from smiling.

He walks up to her. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been reaching for that book for ten minutes without any success”–he grabs the book with ease and hands it over to her–“which is kind of sad, really.”

“Well, thanks, snob,” she says, holding the book close to her chest, her heartbeat picking up its pace. He’s been watching her? “The next time I need a tall person to grab something for me I’ll come for you.”

“Anything for you, delivery girl,” he laughs.

 _Oh dear._ That smile of his is so captivating. She can’t look away. How does she keep finding herself in these situations? How come he’s always there to help her even when she hasn’t asked him to? It has to be one of her favorite things about their relationship – that he’s always there when she needs him the most.  
Somewhere in a dark corner of her mind, a voice murmur something so startling that it jolts her back to reality. When she realizes that while she’s let her thoughts wander, she’s been staring at Matteo, her face quickly heats up.

“So ...” She pauses for a few seconds, her mouth gone dry. “... are you going to the rink after school?”

He nods. “Of course. We have team practice. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about that.”

She blinks. “Oh … N-no. No, I haven’t.” But it’s too late, because Matteo’s grinning again, and she has to laugh at him for being such a dork – and at herself for being so predictable and easily read, apparently. “Well, I should get back to Nina. She must be wondering where I am.” She turns around to leave. “See you on the rink,” she says to him over her shoulder.

“Bye, Luna.”

/

She should spend the walk to Jam & Roller mentally preparing herself for practice, but Matteo is once again stuck in her head (correction: he never left in the first place) and now she can’t escape that scary voice from earlier that she so desperately tried to ignore.

 _You like him_ , it whispers softly, slowly, on the verge of rationally. _Don’t try to deny it._

Starting to feel dizzy, she stops to sit down on a bench, putting her face in her hands. Maybe she’s getting sick or something. Maybe it has nothing to do with him.

(She’s never been good at fooling herself.)

/

Upbeat music is playing through the speakers, everyone’s in a good mood, and even Nina, who usually sits on the bleachers or in the café with a book in her hands, is at the moment leaning against the railing, chatting with Jim and Yam. Ramiro seems to be trying to convince the other boys to incorporate some odd hip-hop move into the choreography, which isn’t going that well if the expressions on their faces are anything to go by.

Luna smiles, glad that everyone’s having fun. It took a while to get up from that bench in the park, but she managed to get to Jam & Roller in time. No one seemed to notice that she’d just had some sort of mini-breakdown, and that’s fine with her. She doesn’t want to worry them.

Now, when she’s out on the rink, eagerly waiting in a corner for practice to begin, she does her best to keep her eyes off Matteo. One quick glance at him and she might lose control of the hurricane growing inside of her.

To get rid of some energy (and to ease her nerves), she decides to do a couple of the easier steps from the routine. She stops after a twirl, only to find Matteo standing right in front of her.

“You okay, delivery girl?” he asks casually, though there’s a hint of concern in his voice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replies. Her mouth has gone dry again and there’s this strange sensation in her stomach, similar to an ache but much more pleasant.

“You just looked so …” He pauses and skates around her once, searching for the right word. “... _spaced-out_.”

She blinks, having forgotten how to speak. Matteo’s expression grows more serious when she doesn’t respond.

“Luna?”

“I–” Why can’t she say anything? When has she ever had a problem with being speechless? And with Matteo, out of all people? He’s so close that she can’t help but be a bit too aware of what his presence does to her. So close that she has to tear her eyes away from his. “I–I’m fine,” she stutters.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, still not meeting his gaze. “Yeah.”

“Has something happened? You were acting kind of strange earlier, too.”

“Is that so?” It sounds like she’s got something stuck in her throat.

Matteo gently lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him. His dark eyes are as serious as his voice. “Luna, if you have any problems, you know you can count on me, right?”

Her brain has stopped working, overwhelmed by his proximity and touch. If she’s supposed to say something that will assure him, she has no idea what it is.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the silence in their little bubble and bursts it, causing Matteo to drop his hand. She can’t help but note how her heart disapproves of the loss of contact.

“Okay, everyone, time for practice!” Tamara shouts as she enters the rink, as enthusiastic as ever.

They join the others, not looking at each other, and she knows that there’s no going back now. She can’t smother this feeling anymore. Once the realization has fully dawned on her it’s impossible to push it back into the darkness and live blissfully in obliviousness like before.

She’s in love with Matteo.

/

It takes her one day and a half to muster up the courage to tell Nina. Having it all bottled up inside has done her no good and she could really use a friend’s perspective on the whole situation, so she calls Nina after she’s closed her bedroom door and changed into her pajamas.

Nina picks up almost immediately. “Hi, Luna. Is everything alright? It’s getting kind of late.”

She hums in agreement and lies down on her bed. She just can’t believe she’s actually going to tell her best friend that she has feelings – _romantic_ feelings – for Matteo. She’s never felt like this before, but it’s the only logical answer to all of this. (Although love and logic seldom have anything to do with each other.)

“I–Nina, I don’t know how I should put this, but …” she starts off, hesitant. “I think … No, wait, I don’t _think_ I–” A nervous laugh escapes her lips. This is harder than she expected it to be.

“Luna. Relax. Take a deep breath.”

She obeys, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Then, “I like Matteo.”

For a moment, it’s silent on the other end. Luna counts from one to three in her head at least four times before Nina makes a noise that resembles a giggle.

“I was kind of wondering when you’d admit it,” she says.

Well, that was not the reaction she anticipated. Then her brain actually processes the words. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“No. No, no, no. You must have been imagining things. Matteo doesn’t like me like that. I’m just a friend to him.”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so,” Nina comments. If Luna didn’t know her friend so well she’d say that Nina is rolling her eyes at the objection, not believing it for a second.

“Nina, I mean it. There’s nothing between us,” she insists, frowning. Saying it out loud hurts, but she can’t live on false hope – it’s a very treacherous road to walk on. One sliver of reality getting in her way and she’ll be lost.

There’s a sound of paper rustling in the background, and Nina says, “Trust me, Luna. Matteo doesn’t see you as ‘just a friend’. He looks at you like … like it’s _you_ that turns night into day, like you’re the one in charge of putting the sun in the sky.”

Luna can’t believe her ears. As much as she’d like Nina’s incredibly poetic words to be true she can’t let herself get too hopeful.

Yes, Matteo has been acting more affectionate lately, and there are moments when they do nothing except looking into each other’s eyes and it feels like everything is somehow being said in their silence. In those moments, the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters, is the small space between them and the aching want it awakens in her.

But what if she’s just misreading his actions? What if her rose-tinted vision is blinding her from seeing the truth?

On the other hand, she’s always been an optimist. “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes.”

That answer is more than enough. Luna knows that she can trust Nina, that she can rely on her honesty. They talk some more for about ten minutes before saying goodbye and Luna stares at the screen for a minute or two. Sending him a message would be so easy, yet it feels like the hardest thing to do. What would she even write?

In the end, she puts the phone down with a small sigh and turns off the light.

/

_“Luna, there’s something I want you to know.”_

It’s only four in the morning when she wakes up with a slight jolt, Matteo’s words still ringing in her ears. She sits up, and for a while she does nothing but stares out into the darkness of her bedroom, her heart beating like crazy.

She’s always had very vivid dreams, but this is getting ridiculous. It’s already too much to have Matteo occupying her mind during the day. Why does he have to appear in her dreams and interrupt her nights too?

How would he react if she told him about this, about the dreams she’s having and the emotions she’s experiencing? Would he just laugh it off or would he believe her?

_Does he feel the same?_

She shakes her head vigorously, as if the motion could get rid of the thought. What happened to her optimism? For a moment she considers screaming into her pillow to release some frustration. Instead, she lies back down, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then another one.

It doesn’t matter if Matteo feels the same or not; their friendship is too important to her – she can’t risk destroying it by dropping a bomb like this on him. She has no clue on how he would react, but the chances of him reciprocating her feelings are not very high.

 _But what if he does?_ asks a small voice from deep inside her – hope.

(God, she’s way too tired for these kind of questions.)

Eventually, her need of sleep gets stronger than her fear of having the same dream all over again, and she falls asleep, more confused than ever.

/

Her parents constantly encourage her to follow her dreams (how literally they want her to take that advice, she’s not sure of, but whatever), so that’s exactly what she’s going to do.  
With a newfound bravery, she gets early to Jam & Roller the next day – two hours before practice is scheduled to start – and spends forty-five minutes by the bar,

chatting with Pedro (who’s on an early shift). Despite working, he lets her talk about whatever comes to her mind, which is pretty much anything. She can’t help but feel anxious for what she’s going to do once Matteo shows up. Just imagining it makes her all jittery. Nevertheless, the hope she felt last night has won over her doubts, and now there’s excitement coursing through her veins.

Pedro pats her on the shoulder. “Whatever you’re nervous about, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” she replies and laughs, mostly at herself for being nonsensical.

It gets somewhat easier when Simón arrives. His company never fails to make her lighten up, and today seems to be no exception. He greets her with a big smile and a quick hug. Luckily for her, his cheerfulness successfully calms her down (even if it’s likely that it’s only temporary).

Pedro mentions something that concerns the band and the two of them start talking about some upcoming event that she’s never heard of before. Grateful for the distraction, however, she tries her hardest to focus on what they are saying without actually participating in the conversation. That way, she’s got something to think about that doesn’t involve Matteo.

One after one, the others start to drop in, until Matteo and Gastón are the only ones missing. With ten minutes to go before practice begins, she can’t hear any of the conversations taking place around her, her full attention solely on the entrance.

A faint _ping_ comes from her pocket and she pulls out her phone, its display announcing a new message from Nina.

**Have you decided what you’re going to do about Matteo?**

Releasing a small sigh, she starts typing several different replies (most of them ending with multiple question marks) and deleting them all before settling with a plain “i don’t know”.

 **I think you should tell him** , reads the next message. **He deserves to know.**

And then, immediately after, there is another one:

**He might surprise you.**

Luna reads the message over and over again. _Surprise_ her? In what way? God, she really doesn’t need Nina’s cryptic words right now. She has nearly come up with a reply she’s content with when a voice – most likely Ámbar’s, going by the irritated tone – exclaims:

“Ah, so _now_ is a good time for you to show up?”

She looks up from her phone and sees the two guys that have just entered the room: Matteo and Gastón.

As soon as her eyes land on Matteo she _swears_ she can physically feel her heart squeeze in her chest. He’s wearing a nice, dark blue button-up shirt, and his laugh is so carefree, so genuine, when he talks with Gastón that Luna wants to look away. Except that she can’t.

Gastón is the one to respond to Ámbar, taking her comment lightly with a shrug. He gives the group some sort of explanation, though Luna loses track somewhere after “... five minutes left, so technically we were on time …”, since she has turned her attention towards Matteo.

It only takes a few seconds until he notices her, and when he does, the corners of his mouth lift. It’s a new kind of smile; different from the one he just had while laughing with his best friend, less dopey and more unsure. (If it wasn’t Matteo “the most humble guy in the world” Balsano – according to himself, obviously – she’d say it’s almost shy, which is weird, because she can’t recall he’s ever looked shy before.)

And just like that, her plans evaporate. She looks away, already feeling her cheeks getting warmer. She was so confident this morning, certain that she would confess to him without any difficulties, that everything would somehow work out just fine – how silly of her.

She’s not an insecure person, not at all, but she hasn’t forgotten that not too long ago, she firmly believed they were just too different to work. All those times she denied the possibility of their relationship developing into something else, how she always would say ‘no’ when Simón asked if she felt anything for Matteo or when Nina hinted at them being a pair. As disheartening as it is to imagine it, that could very well be how Matteo views their relationship.

Maybe he can’t picture himself with her, even though so many things have changed with time, including them.

/

Practice goes smoothly; the routine is almost perfected by now. It’s such a relief to be in a place as good as this when the competition is still far away in the future. Tamara showers them with compliments, telling them how amazing they all are and how well they’re doing.

As always, skating is a great way for Luna to take her mind off things, and at the moment she definitely needs to put away her messy feelings towards Matteo – if only for a few minutes.

At one point (when Tamara is too distracted talking with Ámbar and Simón to notice) he pulls her to the side to ask if she’s okay. Luna does her best to act normal, but her “of course” is so far away from convincing that she immediately feels bad about not telling him the truth. Lying doesn’t sit right with her. It never has.

Matteo just keeps looking at her, like he’s expecting her to continue.

“I mean it,” she says. “Now, can we focus on the choreography?”

He shrugs. “I guess so.”

Normally, skating with Matteo is undeniably a rewarding experience; they move together with an ease that she has hard to find with anyone else, every movement of hers fitting perfectly with his. Today is the complete opposite. They can’t seem to get in sync, and frankly, it’s starting to get on her nerves.

“Matteo,” she pleads when he misses a step by a few seconds. “ _Please._ ”

He shoots her a look that she can’t read. He doesn’t reply, he doesn’t explain. He doesn’t speak at all. Even a pretentious smirk and a “it’s you, delivery girl, that has trouble keeping up with the king of the rink” would be better than this.

“Fine,” she huffs. “I’m going to take a break.” She turns her back to him and skates off to the railing to pick up her water bottle. She uncaps it, takes a few sips, a small frown on her face as the questions spin around in her head.

What is happening? Why is he acting like this?

/

She has begun walking home through the park when a voice behind her calls her name.

“Luna!”

She turns around to see Matteo catching up to her, his breath irregular like he’s been running.

“Yes?” She raises her eyebrows when he doesn’t elaborate. “Got something to say, snob?”

“Yeah, I …” He pauses for a second or two, his eyes scanning their surroundings. “Can we sit down?” He nods towards a bench not too far away.

“Okay.”

They sit down and Luna tries not to notice how Matteo’s breathing slowly goes back to its normal state. Apart from that, he’s so quiet it’s uncanny. While she waits for him to break the silence, she twists the rings on her fingers, every cell of her body sensing that something is about to change.

When it doesn’t seem like he’ll speak up anytime soon, she clears her throat. “So, Matteo, what did you have to say to me? It must be important, since you were running and all that.”

“It is.” He pauses briefly and Luna folds her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for earlier,” he continues. “I was behaving like a complete idiot. The thing is, I’ve wanted to talk with you about something for a while now, but there’s never been a good time. And lately, you’ve been sort of, uh, distracted – more than usual, that is – so I’ve been even more apprehensive about saying it, because it looks like you’re dealing with something, and it’s not like I have anything to do with it, so ...”

“Matteo,” she says when he takes another pause, “what are you trying to–”

He takes her hand in his, which causes a small gasp to slip out of her. As their fingers intertwine, a dozen questions pop up in her head and she looks up at him, wide-eyed. He meets her gaze steadily, a look in his eyes that she instantly recognizes – she’s seen it almost every night for more than two weeks now, after all.

“Luna,” he says, “there’s something I want you to know.”

_Did he just …?_

She swallows hard. Blinks. Opens her mouth and closes it again. She’s about to say his name when his following revelation makes every comprehensible thought in her brain disappear.

“I’m in love with you.”

He states it so certainly, so boldly, like it’s a fact he’s known his whole life. His eyes, however, betray his steady voice: his words may sound confident, but he’s not. Confessing his feelings like this wasn’t easy for him, because being this straightforward makes him vulnerable – and he hates it. He hates how weak and insecure it makes him feel, how dumb it is that he can’t be honest about his true emotions without doubt creeping in. He likes to put up a front, to be someone who doesn’t care what other people think of him, and he’s slowly getting there, but there’s still some way to go.

Several minutes could have gone by before she remembers that he’s probably waiting for some sort of response.

“With me?” she whispers then, her voice barely audible.

The vulnerability in his eyes seems to vanish at that and he smiles softly, his hand tightening its grip on hers. “The one and only Luna Valente.”

“But I …” She can’t believe this is happening. She shakes her head, a laugh building up inside. “But I feel the same way about _you_.”

Matteo’s smile only grows bigger. “Took you long enough.” It sounds like his usual teasing, but his face is so soft, so full of love, that it sends shivers down her spine.

“That’s why I’ve been acting so weird,” she explains. “One day I just felt different about you. At first I didn’t understand what it was. All I really knew was that you were just being yourself and that it suddenly made me feel … all sorts of things.” She goes silent, and then quickly adds, in a lower voice, “You made me a bit nervous.”

“It’s okay, I get it,” he replies. “You make me nervous, too. In a good way.”

“Really?” She laughs. “Wow. I never thought I would hear those words coming from you.”

“And yet, you just did.” He looks down at their hands and then at her face again, a small motion that creates butterflies in her stomach. “It’s the truth, then? You’re in love with me?”

“I just told you I am.”

“Actually, you didn’t use your own words. I want to hear you say it.”

They look at each other for what seems to be an eternity, neither of them uttering a word. Luna does her best to resist breaking eye contact, because even though she can sense her face getting hotter and a blush coloring her cheeks, she doesn’t want to take her eyes off him.

 _He definitely knows how to make me nervous_ , she muses.

He knows how to make her feel appreciated and strong and safe, too. He might act like a snob every now and then, but he’s a deeply compassionate person, thoughtful and perceptive. Luna can’t even count all the times he’s been there for her and said exactly what she needed to hear. She’s come to rely on his presence in her life so much that she can’t even picture it without him.

And so she finds herself in another new situation, a turning point; putting one foot out into the great unknown as the remaining fragments of fear are crumbling into dust. Because just like Matteo is the source of all these unfamiliar emotions, he has given her the courage to act on them as well. It’s scary, absolutely terrifying, but now that he’s right in front of her, patiently waiting, there’s no other way she wants this to go.

Her head is still devoid of coherent thoughts and the butterflies in her stomach are whirling around like they’re caught in a storm, but the words roll easily off her tongue: “I’m in love with you too, Matteo.”

He lights up, eyes sparkling with happiness and relief and that shyness she detected in his smile back at Jam & Roller. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

_Huh?_

_Oh._

One hundred percent certain she won’t be able to use her voice, she nods. Her response might come off as bit too eager, though, because Matteo chuckles, clearly amused at her reaction. He lets go of her hand so that he can cup her face with both of his, and as he leans in closer, Luna takes a shaky, uneven breath, and closes her eyes in anticipation. Their lips touch (finally, _finally_ ), making her heart sigh deeply. It’s so sweet and so gentle and so, so different from what she imagined kissing Matteo would be like, but the thought of what she _had_ imagined gets lost somewhere in the void as her mind goes blank once again.

/

(Afterwards, she tries to speak, but all that comes out is a messy, incomplete sentence of absolute nonsense that makes them both laugh, two wide grins mirroring each other, the nervousness and insecurity fading away like footprints in the sand being wiped off the shore by the ocean.)

/

The sun is setting, painting everything in a lovely spectrum of warm, golden colors. They walk towards the house and Luna glances up at Matteo, inwardly marveling at the way he looks in the light of the sunset. Even though they’ve been a couple for nearly half a year, she still has to remind herself that it’s real, that it’s not just another dream. Though it’s hard to find any reason not to believe it, since it’s been pretty much the same except with a lot of kissing and handholding and hugging and all that mushy romantic stuff.

“Thanks for walking me home, snob,” she says as they stop at the door.

He puts his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. “The pleasure’s all mine, delivery girl,” he replies.

He leans in and Luna, who knows more than well what his intention is, pulls back a couple of centimeters.

“Matteo, my mom called me _twice_ on the way home. It’s getting late and my parents are probably going to step out of this door any minute now,” she tries to warn him, though her words don’t exactly have the desired effect when they are followed by a small laugh.

He raises an eyebrow, challenging her to pull away completely. When she doesn’t (because why would she?), he just smirks triumphantly and closes the gap between them.

It’s rather funny, she thinks, how his kisses still make her heart flutter in her chest. Despite all the time that has gone by, she hasn’t gotten used to them yet. Everything around them – the gentle breeze, the birds chirping in the trees, the distant noise of a passing car – disappears as she kisses him back. When they break away, she waits a few seconds before opening up her eyes, because there is one more thing that is still very new to her.

When she meets his gaze, there’s this look on his face; like he’s admiring something inexplicably beautiful, like he’s holding onto something incredibly precious. Knowing Matteo and his sentimental soul, it’s probably true.

How she ever could have doubted his feelings for her is a mystery. It’s so evident now, looking into his eyes and finding his heart.

“What are you smiling about?” Matteo asks. “Is it because I am such a good kisser?” he adds, one corner of his mouth turned up in a teasing half-smile.

Not wanting to dignify that joke with an answer, she rolls her eyes. What a dork. Instead, she says, “You just make me so happy, you know.” She beams up at him, feeling like the setting sun; all glowing and warm and peaceful. “So, so, so happy.”

He raises a hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “Really?”

“Mhm,” she hums, biting her lower lip.

“Glad to hear it,” he mumbles.

They should say goodbye. She should get inside so that she can face the inevitable: her parents all worried and ready to interrogate her. It’s unavoidable. But she doesn’t want to go. Not yet.

Even though the image of the door being ripped open by her mother (or worse, her father) while she’s kissing Matteo goodnight is more than nightmare-ish, she decides to go for it. Feeling braver by the second, she grabs his collar with one hand, pulling his face closer to hers, which makes him chuckle.

“I thought you said–”

“I know what I said, snob.”

And with that, she puts her lips on his to shut him up.


End file.
